


Intersection Points

by ice_evanesco



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_evanesco/pseuds/ice_evanesco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of moments in Mycroft and Gregory's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [General_Button](https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/gifts), [OrphanText](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/gifts).



> This isn't set in Collision-verse. I just wanted Mycroft and Gregory, and their flaws.

Mycroft doesn't know what Gregory sees in him.   
  
He doesn't ask either, but it torments him. He sees little good about himself; a ginger haired, gawky (he never grew out of that, as Mommy had said, he's always been more than a little awkward) man, in his forties, working too hard, working too long. There was nothing about him that was conventionally attractive, traits or looks wise.   
  
He tries hard. That's what Mycroft does; he tries. He is constantly on his best behavior, and when Gregory moves in after a year, it turns into a 24 hour obsession, fretting about what to do for Gregory, how to make it even better.   
  
Mycroft tries, and Sherlock doesn't. Sherlock is effortless, and sometimes even effort less (leaving things everywhere for John to pick up, various body parts hidden in different corners, the stench of decomposition that never really goes away).  
  
But two years of just trying grows harder and harder by the day, and the mask slowly crumbles. Mycroft can't keep up with day to day matters, and slowly he slips up, the perfection of a clean and tidy home, a meal waiting and a bath drawn up for his Gregory (Gregory who only deserves the best, and nothing but the best) aren't always accomplished, and the house gets messier and messier (Mycroft had servants, until he was sent away to school; he is not naturally neat, it was just more efficient to be neat), the food isn't always warm, and the bath is seldom drawn.   
  
Mycroft is tired of the trying, and one day he just doesn't give a fuck. He reaches home 10 minutes before Gregory is due, and he collapses on the sofa, closing his eyes. It's been three days since he slept, soothing tensions between countries means no rest for Mycroft.   
  
And yet, when he wakes up, the house is neat again, and Gregory has his sleeves rolled up, cooking up something warm and fragrant and delicious in the kitchen. Mycroft sits up with a start, and tries to help, because that's what he does, try.   
  
He walks his face straight into Gregory's hand. "Go and rest, I won't have you trying to prettify my lasagna." The detective inspector is laughing at the drowsy politician, and stirring at a pot of seasoned mince.   
  
When Mycroft stops trying, Gregory picks up the slack.   
  
And it's all fine. It's fine.


	2. Doing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not like Greg doesn't see it.

Look. It's not like Greg doesn't notice it, alright?   
  
He does. He sees it, the way Mycroft is tense, and how he flits around their flat making sure everything is just fine.   
  
Greg's not blind, yeah?   
  
Being a Detective Inspector means he's actually got some brains, despite what Mycroft's pesky little brother says.   
  
It's just that Greg thought Mycroft would be better if he did whatever he did to feel better. And Mycroft does seem better after doing all the chores and generally treating Greg much better than he's ever been treated, even by his previous wife.   
  
If this was what he's been missing out on, sod her.   
  
But a year of it, and of managing political scandals has got to be tiring, and Greg wonders when Mycroft will crack. He's tried to assure Mycroft, but the words don't seem to come out right, and they don't seem to sink in.   
  
If anything, they seem to make Mycroft more guilty than ever, and Greg is about to throw a brick at whoever who used reverse psychology on the poor fellow.   
  
It wasn't a brick, but a week later, Greg tugs off his shoe and it hits Sherlock with a resounding thwack on the head. His people don't talk about it, and even John looks a little amused, fetching the shoe back for Greg with a muttered, "Great aim."   
  
No one would blame him, especially when Sherlock is discovered with Greg's badge in his pocket.   
  
But on the phone later that day, Mycroft sounds absolutely knackered, and Greg is on the Underground, but he detours a little to get some food (mince and pasta sheets, he's not a gourmet chef like Mycroft, but he knows how to apply heat to things to make them edible).   
  
When he opens the door, Mycroft is asleep on the sofa, an arm flung across his face. Greg smiles, and starts picking up all the scattered items in the flat.


End file.
